as an object of sexual desire, I was subjected to the same judgments and accusations. The mainstream heterosexual script for intercourse often de-prioritizes pleasurable activities associated with cis female pleasure — like non-genital touch and cunnilingus. Some straight men seem to believe that they are entitled to love and/or sex, sometimes without ever having even asked for it. Being a woman means that responding to certain men overtures at all is an invitation for rebuttals, while ignoring them doesn’t give them the opportunity to engage further.More importantly, I learned, in short, that there’s a reason the women at whom I scoffed act the way that they did. In addition, there’s the issue of female socialization where women know that they will be seen as rude or mean for issuing outright refusals. Only if they’re willing to lower our standards (and men could probably have sex as frequently as women if they did so as well). Men are, on average, fatter (not that it should even matter), and women’s sex drives aren’t exactly as frigid as they are rumored to be. All those free drinks don’t exactly rectify the wage gap.
They taught me about soccer, the Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers, and Nintendo.
Later, we spent our joint time collaborating on creating Choose-Your-Own-Adventure-style QBasic programs and 3D Movie Maker films as well as on perfecting our Force-moving and lightsaber dueling skills.
Though it meant that many of the delicate young ladies at school refused to accept me, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Then, the Nice Guys came along, both online and as friends of my teenage self.
At first, all I learned from them was that I wasn’t woman enough.
I lacked all the hallmarks of the basic level of attractiveness as per their comments: small, pink, upturned nipples; a small mons with tiny bubblegum-hued labia (as they called it, “tight pussy”); hairlessness; large and “natural” (i.e. The Nice Guys told me all about their wives and their girlfriends and their female “friends” (as in women they secretly wanted to have sex with, which, they strongly implied, meant that they weren’t actually friends).
non-surgically-enhanced) yet very pert breasts; and overall thinness, perhaps with some ass (hips were acceptable only to the more adventurous and kinky men). I was a chubby, grubby-fingered tomboy, not exactly some kind of desirable woman. Women, as per them, are obnoxious creatures only worth putting up with for the sex.
They take too long to orgasm, annoy men with their requests for cunnilingus and cuddling, friend-zone nice guys while dating and sexing up jerks, waste men’s time by never giving an straightforward “no,” can get sex whenever and with whomever they want, stop giving blowjobs and get fat after marriage, demand free meals and drinks but still won’t have sex, and are fussy and high-maintenance. There were men out there who found me to be desirable — not as an attainable consolation prize or a symbol of “settling,” but actually desirable.
And, because they saw me the way that the Nice Guys saw those more conventionally-attractive women, i.e.
Heina Dadabhoy spent their childhood as a practicing Muslim who never in their right mind would have believed that they would grow up to be an atheist feminist secular humanist.